


Almost Always

by kingsofeverything



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Inspired by the video for Just Hold On, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, maybe they're british maybe they aren't, sort of but not really, weird time travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: After a night out, Louis meets Harry at a bus stop. Harry says they've met before.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 105
Collections: Walls Fic Fest





	Almost Always

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks to the mods for running this awesome fest!
> 
>   
> This fic was inspired by the video for Just Hold On :)
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3.**
> 
>   
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  
> 

Louis steps onto the pavement, ears ringing from the thumping bass of the music, tired eyes adjusting to the bright street light just outside the club’s entrance. Why he decided to go out tonight is a complete mystery, when he was perfectly happy to stay home and watch films and go to bed at a reasonable hour. He checks his phone and groans. Three in the morning. Hopefully there’s a bus running at this hour. It’s not a part of town where he’s spent a lot of time, especially after midnight. 

The bus stop seems to glow rose gold, though that’s probably due to the pink of the ads plastered to the insides and the faded yellow of the lights. Still, it’s pretty. He shakes his head and sits on the far end of the bench, not wanting to make the guy sitting on the other side uncomfortable. Leaning his head back, he sighs up at the roof of the covered bus stop. His mind is swimming and he feels like the music from the club is still reverberating through his body. 

“Do you remember me?”

Louis turns at the familiar, deep voice to his right. The light behind the guy flickers and pops, and he squints to see him properly. He’s sitting in the corner, angled slightly towards Louis, and he does look like someone Louis feels like he should remember. Dark, wavy hair frames his wide eyes, and he pinches and tugs on his lower lip, making it even pinker when he lets it go and pouts. 

“What’s your name?” Louis asks.

“Harry,” he answers, tilting his head. “You’re Louis, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, shivering as the temperature seems to suddenly drop. “I don’t remember you.”

“I think… I think we met a few years ago,” Harry says. “Party at Niall’s, maybe? We used to work together.”

“Maybe,” Louis agrees, hugging himself and rubbing his hands over his upper arms. Harry does seem familiar, and Niall used to throw some raging parties that Louis only remembers from other people’s stories. 

“You want my jacket?” Harry offers, taking it off before Louis can protest. “I’ve got a hoodie on.”

“You sure?” Louis takes the blue bomber jacket, slipping his arms inside and relaxing into the warmth. 

“Yeah, ’cause I don’t think the bus is coming.” Harry checks his phone, frowning at the screen. “Should’ve been here already.”

Louis sighs. “Maybe we should walk.”

“We?”

“Yeah, why not? You got plans?”

Harry shakes his head. “Just planning to go home and sleep. But I’m not so tired now.”

“Me neither,” Louis says, standing and pulling Harry’s jacket tighter. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” Harry follows him away from the bus stop, falling into step beside him as they walk down the street. “There’s another stop a few streets over.”

“Cool,” Louis says, kicking a broken brick into the gutter. 

They walk in silence for a bit, and when they turn the corner, there’s a well-lit footbridge that Louis doesn’t remember seeing before. The path onto it is narrow, and Harry walks behind him until they reach the footbridge and can walk side by side again. 

“I’ve never been here before,” Harry says, nudging Louis with his elbow. “Look.”

Over the side of the bridge, instead of a river, is a sea of rooftops, close enough to touch. Louis leans over, reaching out for the flashing red light on top of the building nearest to them. He blinks, looking at Harry, who nods, and steps over the side of the bridge onto the roof. Louis takes his hand, allowing Harry to help him over the railing. He doesn’t let go when he’s safely on the other side. 

Harry leads him over that rooftop to the edge, and without thinking, Louis leaps to the next building, still holding tight to Harry’s hand. 

“Where are we going?” Harry asks.

“No idea,” Louis says, walking faster along the peak of the roof, dragging Harry behind him. “Fun, though, isn’t it?”

Laughing, Harry says, “Yeah. You remember me yet?”

“Not really,” Louis admits. “I’m sure we probably met at Niall’s. You seem really familiar.”

“We did meet at Niall’s. Think it was New Year’s Eve. You kissed me at midnight,” Harry says slowly, like he’s remembering it as he speaks. 

Louis scoffs. “Think I’d remember that.”

“I’d hope so, but I guess not.”

“Could try again,” Louis says, stopping and turning to face Harry, resting his hands on his hips. “Pretty sober tonight. Guaranteed I’ll remember this time.”

Scrunching his nose, Harry leans in, fitting his hands to Louis’ waist. Up close, Louis can finally make out the colour of Harry’s eyes. Such a pretty green. Their lips meet, and Louis is filled with warmth and happiness and the feeling that he’s definitely done this before. 

A loud, eerie creak startles them and they pull apart. A few feet away, a heavy, metal door slowly swings open, red light spilling onto the rooftop. Without thinking, Louis takes Harry’s hand and pulls him through the doorway to the other side.

————

They step out of the same door onto the Las Vegas Strip. Louis hasn’t been there before, and in the back of his mind, he wonders how he even knows where they are. But it’s Vegas. They’re surrounded by neon and people and casinos, and beside him Harry laughs a big, honking, goose laugh, and slaps his knee. 

“Fucking Vegas!” Harry shouts, pointing up at the street sign that reads ‘Las Vegas Blvd’, and starts laughing again. 

Louis shakes his head fondly, sticking his hands in the pockets of Harry’s jacket. He frowns, and pulls out a wad of cash that was definitely not there a few minutes ago. Weird. He carefully folds the money and shoves it into the tight front pocket of his jeans, taking the jacket off and tying it around his waist. Vegas is much warmer than London was, and according to his phone, it’s nine o’clock at night the previous day. 

“This way,” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hand again, and pulling him down the pavement and into the nearest casino. They play the slots, neither of them wanting to talk to anyone else, taking turns pulling the lever of the same machine until they hit the jackpot. 

Shrieking, Harry claps his hands, jumping up and down, while Louis tries to catch the coins in the casino provided cup. He finally gathers them all and a passing waitress hands them a bottle of champagne, which they share while walking around the casino, giving money to everyone they pass until they’re both drunk and out of coins. Louis pats his pocket, finding the wad of cash still tucked safely inside.

“Come with me?” Harry grins maniacally, and Louis grins right back, willing to follow him anywhere and not questioning why. 

They run out of the casino onto the strip. Louis laughs at the surprised faces of the people surrounding them, and Harry races him down the pavement. Out of breath, Louis stops, leaning against the closest building, and Harry cages him in, resting his arms on the wall behind Louis’ head, panting from the exertion of running, breath warm on Louis’ cheek. Louis turns his head, catching Harry’s open mouth in a messy kiss and wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. 

Harry nips at Louis’ lip and says, “Remember me yet?”

“Nope,” Louis says with a shrug. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry steps back, and Louis grabs his hand again, sprinting down the pavement towards a bright white neon light. They reach the doors just as they’re closing for the night, but Louis begs them to stay open, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash.

“Please? This has to happen now,” Louis insists, and Harry presses himself to Louis’ back, hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder.

“Please,” Harry says, and somehow, without looking, Louis knows he’s batting his eyelashes. 

The man relents, stepping aside and letting them inside A Little White Chapel. He looks at the money Louis gave him, counting it quickly, and says, “You have twenty minutes.”

“Thanks!” Louis hurries to the gift shop, and pushes Harry’s shoulder. “You go that way, I’ll go this way. Meet me at the altar!”

Harry cackles and they split up, Louis rifling through the racks of souvenirs that scream ‘Vegas Wedding’ until he finds the perfect thing. With his white snapback and veil on, and a bouquet of sunflowers, Louis heads for the doors of the chapel. Swinging the doors open, he stops short at the sight of Harry standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a white cowboy hat, and waiting for him. 

Smiling, green eyes twinkling, Harry says, "I was worried you’d run off.”

“Never,” Louis assures him, splitting his bouquet and handing Harry half of the sunflowers. “Let’s get hitched!”

The ceremony is so short that Louis doesn’t have time to think before he’s saying ‘I do’ and being kissed quite inappropriately in front of a minister. A moment later, they’re ushered out the door where a pink Cadillac is waiting. Harry dangles the key in front of Louis, snatching it away, and climbing into the driver’s seat. With all of his money gone, Louis isn’t sure what they’re going to do now. They probably can’t afford a hotel. And now he’s hot and sweaty from running around all night. 

Harry pulls into the parking lot of a motel far off the strip. The sign’s neon lights are dim and at least half of the letters aren’t lit, making it easier for them to slip past the manager’s office and up the stairs to the second floor. They sneak down the walkway, and when they turn the corner, Louis sees the cleaning cart full of fresh towels and sheets. He snatches a key from the cart, glancing at the room number.

“This way,” Louis whispers. “Room twenty-eight.” 

The door opens easily, and they both giggle, shutting it and locking all the locks. Louis throws himself on the bed, and Harry crawls over top of him, yanking his own shirt off, while Louis wiggles out of his clothes. Down to their boxers, they finally kiss again, the touch of Harry’s skin making his body tingle from head to toe. Louis skates his hands over Harry’s back, slipping them under the waistband of his boxers, and Harry moans, pressing his mouth against Louis’ neck. 

Someone bangs on the door, and through the sheer curtain, Louis can see the manager from the office downstairs. As fast as they can, they pull on their clothes, climbing through the bathroom window to the narrow ledge outside. Shuffling carefully sideways towards the safety of the stairs, Louis can’t help but laugh. This is, by far, the most bizarre night of his life. 

“Shit!” Harry stops, and Louis looks. The manager is waiting for them. He checks back the way they came, but there’s no reason to go that way when they’ll just be caught. 

Louis takes a deep breath, pointing at the rippling water of the pool below. “On three,” he says, and starts to count. They jump, splashing into the deep end, still holding hands. 

————

Gasping for air, Louis sits up, legs tangled with Harry’s. They’re in a jacuzzi tub in a swanky bathroom, and they slip as they clamber out and onto the plush rug. Dripping water, they grab for the fluffy towels hanging on the warming rack, and Louis opens the door. Red light surrounds them, and they’re standing on another street, just outside a restaurant, both of them clean and dry. 

They stumble into the restaurant, sitting at a table with a couple of men who look familiar, but who Louis can’t place. The men share their dinner with Harry and Louis, splitting a bottle of wine with them as well. When they’ve had their fill, Louis stands, and Harry slides out of the booth.

“Thanks, Zayn,” Harry says, and the name rings a bell in Louis’ brain.

“Zayn?”

“And Liam. That’s his boyfriend,” Harry says. “You remember yet?”

Louis shakes his head. “Nope. Let’s go!”

Outside, the street is packed with people, and directly in front of them sits an empty Jeep, keys dangling from the ignition. Without a second thought, Louis jumps behind the wheel, and Harry joins him in the passenger seat. They take off into the night, leaving the street and turning onto a dirt road. A few minutes later, the road disappears, and they’re driving through the dark desert, sand surrounding them on all sides. 

“Where are we?” Louis asks, glancing over as Harry checks his phone.

“Wish you’d asked me five minutes ago when I had a signal,” Harry says, standing up through the open top of the Jeep and holding his phone up as if that’s going to help. “Battery’s about to die.”

Louis huffs, digging through the pockets of Harry’s jacket, which is still tied around his waist. He finds his phone, but his battery is dead too. “Well, fuck.”

“Not right now, Lou,” Harry says, and Louis laughs. 

“You tell the worst jokes.”

“So you _do_ remember?” Harry asks, bouncing down into his seat. 

“Nope,” Louis says, slamming on the brakes and stopping the Jeep in a cloud of dust. He points to a hill in the distance. “Look.”

“Wow.” Harry stands up again, but Louis climbs out of the Jeep, walking around to the front and climbing onto the bonnet. 

Whatever time it is, wherever they are, the sun is rising, and it’s the most beautiful thing Louis has ever seen. 

“I love you,” Harry says, climbing up next to him and lying back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Love you too,” Louis says, and he’s sure it’s true. 

He snuggles up to Harry’s side, resting his head on Harry’s chest, and together they watch the sky as the colours shift and change. Before the sun can get completely above the horizon, Louis falls asleep. 

————

“Babe,” Harry says, kissing just below Louis’ ear, right in his ticklish spot. Louis swats at him blindly. He hates waking up. 

“Go away,” Louis says, but he doesn’t mean it. 

“Never.” Harry kisses him again, on his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose, and Louis blinks his eyes open.

“Had the weirdest dream,” Louis mumbles, letting Harry kiss down his neck and over his chest. “You were there, but I didn’t know you.”

“Really?” Harry asks, rubbing their noses together. “What else?”

“We got married in Vegas and there were… these portals? We were British? So weird.”


End file.
